Seeking
by Jaceee
Summary: Reyson frequently seeks out the comfort and warmth that only Tibarn can give him. Tibarn/Reyson yaoi one-shot.


(A/N: OKAY. First fic I've posted up on for about a year now? Sorry for the absence! Er, I come bearing HOTMANBIRDSEX. -shot- Yes, you read right. It's TibarnxReyson, they er. Well, they have sex. Yeah. A little angst in the start and then there's a crack extra at the bottom. WITH MANY MENTIONED PAIRINGS!

Pairings; Tibarn/Reyson, mainly. Mentioned Naesala/Reyson, Kieran/Oscar, Shinon/Gatrie (yes Shinon IS seme), Haar/Jill (kinda pedo but..)

Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem in anyway. It belongs to their respective owners.

AND ONE LAST WARNING - This contains sex between two men. It also has a profanity or two thrown in there somewhere, so if yaoi squicks you or you're underaged, er... scoot.)

I present (for lack of better title and because Seeker is sexy even though he's not in this fic) :

Seeking.

He always sought out comfort in those large, powerful arms. They were so vastly different from reality : cold, harsh, and brutal. His lover's were anything _but._

It was more of a survival instinct than anything else, but Tibarn and Reyson had come to terms with their relationship being as one of equivalent – neither of them gave or took too much from the other.

Relief came with every embrace, as darkness was dispelled with every gentle, sometimes hesitant, kiss.

That feeling of _sheer _loneliness, despair eating away at him, all hope cast far out of his reach – he was always there to make him feel and _be_ whole once more, life injecting itself into his very being after sex, or anything vaguely intimate.

It was a thing of fantasy for both laguz nobles, the heron and the hawk.

Notwithstanding the feeling of sin; their relationship.

Ah, well. The imposingly large hawk king mused to himself one morning, tangling his fingers in gold-spun hair of his lover's, splayed askew on his pillows.

Every relationship had its own fuck ups, after all.

'I love you' was something that they learned was as important as breathing itself – whether screamed into the night or breathlessly whispered into ears, or any passing moment of the day.

Or the night.

Or their lives.

That night would be no different.

Whether it was attributed to Reyson's surprisingly voracious appetite for sex, or merely the need for familiar warmth and a soothing voice, he came to Tibarn in the middle of the night.

And Tibarn would comply, wanting to feel himself up in the slender man, to _lose _himself in him.

Night wind would softly flutter the curtains through the partially open windows, circling the two lovers teasingly, and Reyson's pale body would press into Tibarn's unyielding form, seeking some form of body heat.

If in desperation or need, neither cared – or bothered, the way their lips clashed together, Tibarn's long tongue seeking out the shier one belonging to Reyson, tangling together through open mouths, Reyson having to push himself up on his toes, being the clearly shorter one.

Lightly, lovingly, Reyson would brush his delicate fingertips over the cross shaped scar that marred his lover's otherwise perfect facial features, causing the hawk king to groan softly, large downy wings contracting against his body in pleasure.

It's a tender moment between them both, a rare moment, but now that the war is over, they can indulge in so many more times like these, but that doesn't really cross their minds as a more _pressing_ issue led to the rather relentless tearing of clothes on Tibarn's part.

Reyson made a small noise in the back of his throat, something like a 'Oh!' which was muffled by Tibarn's lips upon his, as a rush of cold wind hit Reyson's now-exposed upper body.

Shushing him gently, Tibarn let the torn silken garment that once served as the heron prince's shirt fall to the floor.

'_If I touch you, you won't break, will you? I'm afraid that I would…'_

'_Tear me apart, Tibarn. I could not care less.'_

Greedily he accepts that offer as Reyson carefully unbuttons his green jacket, achingly slow, revealing bit after bit of tanned and scarred flesh with every button undone.

Tibarn, on the other hand, is not so delicate – nor patient. He rids Reyson of his long pants and undergarments with a select few long hawk-like talons slash fingernails, letting the shredded material fall to the ground.

Mouthing ghost like scars that criss-cross Tibarn's chest that years and years of battle had earned him, Reyson kisses and gently caresses each and every mark, hearing the sexually frustrated flap of wings behind Tibarn. _I'm about to lose my mind,_ he thinks desperately.

The large green jacket that never really did much to cover Tibarn up was on the ground, joining the other remains of Reyson's garb.

Now that they were both in various states of undress, Tibarn pauses to admire Reyson's body, letting his gaze linger on the puppy-dog expression on Reyson's face, glimmering eyes begging for gratification, pouty lips moist and parted, whispering Tibarn's name.

Said coffee haired king ravishes the pale prince's lips, letting his mouth wander lower, to Reyson's neck, strategically marking certain spots that were sure to leave obvious marks the morning after.

His hands that trail paths up and down Reyson's spine feel the pleasured flap of fluffy wings, betraying Reyson's otherwise calm exterior.

'_Patience, Reyson.'_

Tibarn breaks away, reaching behind him to grasp the small vial filled with oil that he had persuaded Rhys into imparting to him. Returning to Reyson, he holds him in a loose, one-armed grasp, using his free hand and sharp teeth to uncork the bottle, sticky liquid sloshing about within.

Reyson mentally prepares himself for the next part.

He gasps as the cool oil is spilt on his back as Tibarn slicks his fingers thoroughly.

Soft sweet nothings are murmured to relax Reyson as Tibarn's large hands found their place on Reyson's firm behind, the heron clinging to his lover's chest for dear life, his rump stuck out in what felt like an awkward position.

'_Ahh!' _Reyson scrunched up his face and hung to Tibarn as he felt a cold digit slide up his puckered ring of muscle. Shaking and fumbling hands undid Tibarn's gold ornamental belt, finally undoing the catch as the stiff digit in Reyson started to pump in and out.

Following a steady rhythm, a second joined the first, and a scissoring motion followed, making Reyson cry out, '_Tibarn!'_

'_I'll make you scream even louder later, my dear prince.'_

'_Oh, Tibaaarn… ah…'_

Stretching the heron prince, Tibarn inhaled deeply as he felt his constricting pants fell to the ground. Not favouring beroc clothes, he went au natural most of the time, and a sudden rush of cold air surrounded his manhood, erect and hard.

A third and final finger was plunged into Reyson, and he felt the full impact of Reyson's tight wet walls clench around him. '_TIBARN!' _Reyson almost shrieked, and Tibarn feverishly hoped that none of Greil's mercenaries would walk in on them.

On a side note, Naesala once did. Finding Reyson heavily lidded, panting, and riding Tibarn like there was no tomorrow, Naesala almost got off in the doorway, and promptly found a chair chucked at him, which Tibarn had miraculously managed.

The next morning, the crow king propositioned Reyson, and was unfortunate enough to be within earshot of Tibarn. The normally cool and collected hawk king had to be bodily restrained by Brom, Gatrie, and Ike.

'_Where would you like me, Reyson?'_

'_Oh… a-anywhere…just take me!'_

So Tibarn did, utilizing the closest flat surface – the floor.

Pulling the prince down to the ground, Tibarn hefted Reyson's pale legs up, hooking them around his waist. '_I love you,'_ he whispered as he positioned himself at Reyson's entrance, and entered.

Loudly Reyson whimpered, feeling himself harden unbearably. He reached down to take care of himself.

'_As long as I live and breathe, let me do this for you.'_

'_Ah… 'ibarn…'_

Void of all reasonable thought and understanding, Reyson felt his arms pinned above his head as Tibarn started to thrust harder, their breaths shallow and heavy.

In perfect time and sync with his movements, Tibarn pumped Reyson's shaft, feeling the silken skin of Reyson.

Feeling the pleasure start to amount in his lower abdomen as his tight hole was invaded, Reyson threw back his head and cried, "Tibarn! Oh, Tibarn…! I love you!"

"I… Love you too, Reyson," Tibarn managed to hiss, drawing himself back at Reyson's entrance, hastily repositioning himself and driving himself all the way back in, hitting Reyson just where he liked it.

The feeling of his wings being squashed and crushed under all their weight was starting to take it's toll on Reyson, but it was easily buried under the waves of pleasure. '_Keep this up and I can't last much longer,'_Reyson said, voice no more than a heated whisper.

The knot in his stomach tightened, and the slender man beneath him mewled for sweet release.

'_Neither can I. Let's go together.'_

So they did- they screamed in orgasmic bliss as they came simultaneously – Tibarn allowed himself a low throated roar and Reyson a scream, feeling everything around him unravel, his mind a blank slate.

Neither could hear the banding on their door, disgruntled team mates depraved of sleep because of them.

Tibarn released himself in Reyson, his thick spunk filling Reyson to the brim and overflowing. The latter's own hot seed spilled onto his stomach and Tibarn's firm, flat stomach, covering them in white, sticky fluids.

They let out their last shuddering gasp as they rode the last waves of their orgasm, and Tibarn collapsed atop Reyson's slight built, causing the man under him to squeak in an undignified fashion.

Apologetically he rolled over, sliding out of Reyson's bruised behind, barely able to move. "I love you, Reyson." He whispered into Reyson's hair.

He drew his knees up to his chest and rolled off his aching wings, into Tibarn's arms. "And me, you."

--

CRACK OMAKE!

Outside, unhappy mercenaries pounded on the bolted doors, thanks to Naesala's little 'visit'.

"Keep it down, damn it!" Disgruntled and horny people such as Naesala, Shinon and Kieran, who wanted no more than to go back to bed and do to their partners what Tibarn was doing to Reyson.

And Naesala didn't get any, so he stood out there with the rest of Greil's mercenaries and complained.

The politer ones that simply wanted sleep: Ike, Rhys, Morcedcai and Brom, restrained the first-mentioned lot from disrupting the sleep of others. "Cool it, Shinon Um, General Ike? When _exactly_can we go back to sleep?" Brom groaned, holding the red-headed sniper back from kicking the door down.

"I think they're done," Ike had never felt so relieved in his life, and Rhys made the sign of the cross.

"Someone's _gotta _talk to them into keeping it down at night!" Naesala lamented a little too loudly, and from within the room came a yell of, "FUCKING CROW!" No doubt from Tibarn himself.

"Troops, to sleep! Move out!" Ike wearily commanded, and all of them trudged back to sleep and their respective partners, unlike a select bunch who were smart enough to wait out the orgasm of the two bird tribe nobles.

Except Haar, who was too busy snoring into Jill's hair to bother. Jill wouldn't have gotten any sleep even if the heron and hawk _didn't _climax.

But thankfully for everyone in the inn, they did.  
--

(A/N: Mymy... after about a year's absence? UNFORGIVABLE -shot- Okay, once again I apologize to whoever I've blinded with this story or anyone who I've unintentionally let down - you know who you are. I'M SORRY! -shot-

So, yeah. Please reveiw and make me happy? ;-; I promise more fics!

-Jace /MistralSha)


End file.
